cancer

Something happened the other day that caused me to take pause and reflect upon the last 9+ years since my MS diagnosis. The other day I received an email from one of my girlfriends. Since it seemed to be about a medical website I blew it off thinking it was something to do with her work. A day later I received another email so I read it more closely. It talked about her choosing Caring Bridge instead of another, less user-friendly platform. Knowing what Caring Bridge is, I gave her email my full attention although no details were present. Immediately I reached out to her to inquire about what was happening. To my shock, especially since we had all been together only 2 weeks ago and everything was fine, she stated she had been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma and was beginning a 4-round series of oral chemo this week. If that is successful and she goes into remission, she will then have a stem cell transplant which will hopefully “buy her” 10-13 years. That’s not a very long life in my opinion. My heart was heavy as I thought about all her hopes and dreams that may not be given the opportunity to come to fruition.

As is only natural, when I hung up the telephone my thoughts turned to memories of our recent family vacation which have been shadowed by my father’s life-threatening decline in health. And I’m reminded of a weekend 10 years ago spent with my mother in celebration of her 70th birthday – everyone, to my recollection, was healthy then. Wandering around my house that afternoon, I reflected on all of my family photographs and what life was like at the time they were taken. So much has happened over the years. Lots of change; some good, some not so good.

Even when days seem to drag on, the years seemingly fly by faster and faster as I age. I’m told this is common which is personally poignant because lately I find it challenging to make the most of every minute, not wasting precious moments. To lift my father’s spirits, I created a collage of family photographs. It reveals celebrations, parties, jokes, and all the fun we have together. Hidden behind the photographs is the sadness of the people we’ve lost in addition to the pain, anguish, illness, surgeries, diagnoses, etc. that we’ve all experienced. Sometimes the older we get, the more daunting the future becomes.

This summer my MS has been somewhat of a nuisance; causing vestibular issues that are interfering with my daily life. Although I am not overly concerned with the immediacy of this issue, it does bring to mind the question, “How well will I be in another 10 years?” People with certain illnesses that are not chronic usually either experience remission, are healed, or pass away. It’s a bit more finite. My friend with multiple myeloma and other people like me with chronic diseases learn to live with their illnesses; making friends with the proverbial elephant in the room who never leaves. Regardless, everyone’s got something and life goes on until it doesn’t.

As I anticipate the next decade of my life I am filled with joy, excitement, and a touch of sadness and trepidation. There is so much potential and I am eager to see what happens. As my friends and I move toward and through the age of retirement and are exposed to greater loss and illness amongst our families and friends, I hope the most interesting years are still ahead of me. As I’m sliding down the hill of life I will no longer stand in the shadow of those before me; I am now coming into my own with increased confidence and am hopeful that I will remain well. My vision does leave the door ajar for the limitations of MS and aging although I’m hopeful those will be limited at best.

I guess that my reflection needs to include practicing what I preach; my ‘go to’ mantra of, “overcome adversity and recognize the gift.” Challenges force me to dig deep inside and discover how strong I really am. Over the years I’ve always landed on my feet regardless of the obstacle, and believe me, there have been many. I realize all of these are stepping stones to having become the person I am today and will become tomorrow. I’m always changing or evolving and that’s a good thing. Life definitely is a journey filled with lots of potholes as well as smooth pathways. Here’s hoping that my navigation skills continue to improve and that I don’t fall into too many potholes during my next 10 years.

Yesterday I attended the funeral of a dear friend who succumbed to ovarian cancer at the age of 79 after a 12-year valiant battle. Her granddaughter, with the voice of an angel, sang her favorite song – her life’s motto – and it was quite poignant. The song is by Martina McBride entitled, “I Hope You Dance.” Here is a synopsis of the lyrics that resonated with my spirit.

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean;

Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens;

Promise me that you’ll give faith a fighting chance;

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance;

I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance;

Never settle for the path of least resistance;

Livin’ might mean takin’ chances but they’re worth takin’;

Lovin’ might be a mistake but it’s worth makin’;

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance;

I hope you dance.

Our lives are filled with constant motion. We tend to go through each day doing what needs to be done, rarely taking notice of what we’re actually doing and rarely taking chances due to fear of failure. We tend to be stuck on the hamster wheel of “getting it done faster and/or right;” equating it with being better as well as sticking to our “normal” because it is safe.

When is the last time you stopped, took a breath and actually took notice of your daily routine? When is the last time you took a risk, no matter how small? Life is fragile and brief. Being present helps you to enjoy life to the fullest. Taking risk adds variety, change and opportunity leading to a purposeful, well life. No matter your current health situation take notice, take a chance, seize opportunity and, in the words of Martina McBride, I hope you dance.

Last week I had my first colonoscopy. At first I was apprehensive after hearing so many horror stories about the prep as well as people waking up during the actual procedure. But once it all began, it wasn’t too bad.

3 Days prior to the prep:

From everything I’ve read, I thought it easier on my body if I stopped eating meat, chicken and fish three days prior to the prep. Basically I ate a diet similar to what one would eat if they had the stomach flu. I also ate a lot less during those three days in a way to prepare my body for the 24 hour onslaught that was imminent.

Preparing for the prep:

I set up a TV Tray in my bathroom. On it I put my iPad, Sudoku puzzle book, cordless telephone (you never know if you need to call for help), an interesting novel, and a box of baby wipes for sensitive skin. Yes, baby wipes. A girlfriend’s sister said her bottom got so sore the only thing she could use to on it was the baby wipes. In addition to setting up a living room in my bathroom, I set aside the entire day to relax even though the prep didn’t begin until 3pm.

First thing in the morning:

No food, but lots of liquids are permitted. So I have my morning coffee, my morning jug of water and an apple juice. I also mix the Trylite mixture with the lemon/lime flavor packet (it’s the only one that sounded remotely palatable to me) and place the jug in the fridge.

3pm – the prep begins:

I took 4 teeny, tiny pills at 3pm. For those of you squeamish about swallowing pills, these are smaller than anything you’ve ever seen and they are easier to swallow than a bite of food. After taking the pills, I sat down in front of the television and waited. Tick, tock, tick, tock…nothing happening.

5pm – the real prep begins:

I begin to drink the Trylite. According to the instructions, you’re supposed to drink 8 ounces every 10-15 minutes, consuming in total a minimum of 2/3 of the jug which equals approximately 128 ounces (16 – 8oz. glasses).

Everyone says the Trylite is disgusting. Well, personally it’s not “good” by any sense of the term, however it is doable. To me, it tasted like a salty, smelly sock. It looked like it had the consistency of water yet in the mouth felt more like a gel consistency. Okay, it was gross but, again, doable, especially if you use a straw to gulp through. And after watching TV, bored while waiting, I finally started to “go” around 6:30pm.

Part way through all of this I started getting very cold and shaky. From what I understand, this is normal due to the dehydration that’s taking place even though I continued to drink lots of water and apple juice in between drinking the Trylite.

After getting 2/3 of the fluid in me, I felt like it was all sitting in my chest. Even though I was thoroughly “cleaned out” with virtually no distress, discomfort and any other issues, I was paranoid about not having to do this again if the doctor wasn’t pleased with my prep results. So I went to drink the last 1/3 of the Trylite. With one sip of the next cup, at least 1/3 of everything I drank came right back up. At least I was next to the kitchen sink so I didn’t have a mess on my hands! I’m only telling you this so that you’re prepared in case your system rebels like mine did.

Getting sick was the signal to me that I was done with the Trylite. Oddly enough, after getting sick, I was no longer cold or shaky. I actually felt really good! I went to sleep at the normal time, woke up once or twice to go to the bathroom and then slept until it was time to get up and go to the doctor’s office.

Day of the Colonoscopy:

It’s best to get the first appointment of the day so I arrived at my scheduled time of 7am. Because my doctor has a GI lab in his office, I did not have to go to the hospital. This was lovely because I had a private room, three nurses looking after me, an anesthesiologist and the doctor. I knew I was in good hands.

The actual procedure took 30 minutes and recovery from the anesthesia took about 40 minutes. I walked out of the doctor’s office at 9am clear headed (although my mother did drive me as I was instructed not to drive or make any important decisions for 24 hours).

My results: I was as cleaned out as a person could be (yay!) and my colon was totally healthy (double yay!). Most people with results like this get a 10-year reprieve before they have to go through all this again. However, since my grandmother had colon cancer in her mid-80s, I have to repeat this whole procedure in 5 years. If I’m still perfectly healthy then, I will get my 10-year reprieve.

Remember, it’s better to be safe than sorry when dealing with a completely detectable and treatable (if caught early) dreadful disease. So if you haven’t scheduled your first colonoscopy, I urge you to do so. Isn’t your life worth it?